


Payoff

by yeaka



Category: Mary Tyler Moore Show
Genre: Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 22:51:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20628857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: After the all-night election show, Mary and Rhoda go home.





	Payoff

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Set right after S1E8 “The Show Must Go On”
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Mary Tyler Moore or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Rhoda doesn’t talk to her on the way out of the parking lot, and Mary really can’t tell anymore if that’s because she’s still angry or just too exhausted to speak. Even Mary’s too exhausted to speak, so she doesn’t ask. She tries to formulate ways in her head of making it up to Rhoda, because when she’d asked the small favour of Rhoda coming to the station with her to man the phones, she never imagined it’d mean they’d be up all night and stuck on air, babbling out every little thing they could to keep the show rolling. Ted will probably forgive her in a few days, because he’ll forget she was ever in charge. The rest of the people stuck at the station were just doing their jobs and will at least have some understanding. But Rhoda was innocent bystander that got sucked in out of friendship, and Mary feels guilty for that.

She’s too tired to articulate any more or come up with any real plan to fix it. Try as she might, the only thing she can seem to do is summon the image of her bed in her sleep-addled mind. When they reach her apartment door, she still mumbles a yawn-filled, “Well... good night. Listen, thanks again—”

Rhoda grunts, “Save it, kid,” and beelines right around her into the apartment. 

Figuring Rhoda’s brain has finally collapsed under the stress, Mary reminds her, “Uh, no, Rhoda, your apartment—”

“Is too far away right now,” Rhoda answers without looking. She waves her hand dismissively. She takes three steps in, pulls off her shoes, tosses her coat vaguely towards Mary’s couch, and then flops lifeless down on the shag.

Mary hesitates a few seconds before coming in, shutting the door, and not even bothering to shed her shoes or coat—she just follows Rhoda down to the floor. She can’t make it to her bed. Her knees have given out. At least she had the carpets cleaned on Monday. 

The shag is comfortingly warm and tickles her cheek. Rhoda rumbles next to her, “Night, Mar’.”

Mary means to answer, “Good night,” but is already asleep.


End file.
